A Slytherins Thunder
by Vamp431
Summary: Meet Aurora Potter, the younger, harsher sister to The Boy who Lived. A natural born Legilimens and exceptionally gifted at magic, Aurora was left with her Godfather, Remus Lupin. What happens when she joins Hogwarts and befriends a certain blonde boy
1. Preface

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of J.K Rowlings world but Aurora and other O.C are mine.**

 _ **"..When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice." - Indian**_.

 _The chamber was very long and dimly lit, towering stone pillars entwined with carved serpents rose up to support a ceiling lost in the darkness above. The pillars cast long black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. Every step echoed loudly off the shadowy walls, and I felt like the stone eyes of the snakes were following me. More than once, I thought I saw one stir. As I drew level with the last of the pillars, a statue as high as the chamber itself loomed into view, standing proudly against the back wall._

 _I had to crane my neck to look up into the giant face above; it was ancient and monkey-like, with a long thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizards sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth chamber floor._

 _Walking until I was at its feet, I knelt; almost as if I were to pray to it and placed a small thin book down. It had a shabby black cover with a faded date on the corner. I knew at once it was a diary and flipped it open. The pages, blank and nondescript suddenly started to blow as if caught in a high wind, stopping midway through the dairy._

 _It was then that I was truly shocked, or horrified as the small moving image in the top cover swelled and pulsed. A faint glow seemed to seep out, growing and forming... the glowing seemed to make me feel weak, the edges of my vision turning to a swirl of dull colours._

 _The mass of light seemed to form a person - a boy. He was tall, and handsome, with jet black hair. He wore black robes that had a gleaming silver prefect badge on and the Hogwarts crest. The boy, whoever he was, was the last thing I saw as I hit the cold marble floor._


	2. The Boy Who Lived

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter but I do have the pleasure of owning Aurora and this plot.**

 **Author note: This chapter is mainly from the book, with a few small changes to fit my plot; the next chapter will feature Aurora and her life before Hogwarts. Enjoy!**

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As the residents of number four Privet Drive slept peacefully in their beds, outside a tabby cat showed no signs of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed in the next street, nor when two owls swooped overheard. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he popped out of the ground. The cats tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen in Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair, and beard, which was both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak, which swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles, and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. The mans name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realise that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realise that he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He had found what he was looking for inside his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left in the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out their window now, even beady eyed Mrs Dursley from number four, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street towards number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment, he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn up into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you sat on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have past a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh, yes, everyones celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more carefull, but no - even the Muggles have noticed somethings going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursley's dark living room window. "I heard it. Flock of owls.. shooting stars.. Well, theyre not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore grimly. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irratably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out in the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on: "A fine thing it would be if on the very day that You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really _has_ gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?"

"A _what?"_

"A sherbet lemon. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for sherbet lemons. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who _has_ gone -"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: _Voldemort."_ Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking a two sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice. "It gets so confusing if we keep saying "You-Know-Who" I have never seen the reason to be frightened of saying Voldemorts name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half- exasperated, half-admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, _Voldemort_ \- was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too - well - _noble_ to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing to the _rumours_ flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's finally disappeared? About what's finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold hard wall all day, for niether as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing look as she did now. It was plain that whatever 'everyone' was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another sherbet lemon and did not answer.

"What they're _saying_ ," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hallow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - _dead_."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James ... I can't believe it ... I didn't want to believe it ... Oh, Albus ..."

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know ... I know ..." he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry. But - he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemorts power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's - it's _true_?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done ... all the people he's killed ... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding ... of all the things to stop him ... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess." said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took out a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it is he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left."

"You don't mean - you _can't_ mean the people who live _here_?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. The Potter children come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

Professor McGonagall gaped at him.

"Him? As in _just_ the boy? Dumbledore, what about Aurora? Please tell me you intend to leave them together?" begged McGonagall, "They will need each other more than ever."

"Aurora will be placed with her godfather, Remus. It will give him some light in all the darkness he's faced." said Dumbledore calmly, "There will come a time when they will understand. For now, it is important that Harry comes to live with his aunt, and for Aurora to stay with someone who can safe guard her."

Professor McGonagall had no arguement. Remus had been one of her Gryffindors, best friends with James Potter from the second they entered her House. Remus had been a prefect, a good student and like his friends, had joined the fight against Lord Voldemort as soon as they left Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It seemed only normal for the Potters to name him as godfather to their second born; Sirius Black another Gryffindor and best friend to James had been named as Harrys godfather. It dawned on the tired Professor what Dumbledore had said.

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in the future - there will be books written about Harry - every child in the world will know his name!"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that untill he's ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how are the children getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding two small children underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing them."

"You think it - _wise_ \- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagris with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky - and a huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the road in front from of them.

If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so _wild_ \- long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At least. And where did you get that motorbike?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir." said the giant, climbing carefully of the motorbike as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it me. I've got them, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed but I got them out all right before the Muggles started swarmmin' around. Harry fell asleep as we was flying over Bristol. Little Rory, on the other hand, I thought even the Muggles could hear her."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was two small babies. The biggest of the two was a boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightening. The other child was awake, her hazel eyes the image of her fathers staring up at the three strangers; instead of black hair like her older brother, a thin dusting of dark auburn hair could be seen.

"Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall nodding to the cut on the boys head.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, "He'll have that scar for ever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee which is the perfect map of the London underground. Well, give Harry here, Hagrid - We'd better get this over with; Remus will be expecting me any minute now with Aurora."

Dumbledore took Harry into his arms and turned towards the Dursley house. Aurora continued to watch, with eyes far to intelligent for such a young baby. She made no sound, no whimper, it was as if she understood the severity of the moment.

"Could I - could I say goodbye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid.

Dumbledore stopped, and waited patiently for Professor McGonagall to collect the remaining child from the trembling giant, who then bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must be a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall. "You'll wake the Muggle's!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles - "

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as she rocked the youngest Potter. Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently down on the doorstep, took a letter out if his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrids shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, the twinkling light that usually shone in Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out and Aurora Potter let out a piercing cry.

Before the Muggles could chance hearing the whimpering child, Dumbledore quickly turned to face the other two and took the child from his collegue and said: "Well, that's that. We've no business staying here. You may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice. "I'd best get this bike away. Give Remus my best, Professor Dumbledore, sir. G'night Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eye on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorbike and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her as he stared at the small baby girl in his arms, eyes twinkling. It was only a week ago he had met the small child, when he suggested using the Fidelus Charm to protect her and her brothers home, and he knew he had met another of Hogwarts greatest students. Harrys future was tangled up with Voldemorts but the child in his arms had no future prophesed. No kill or be killed but the swirling feeling in Dumbledores gut told him she would face her own demons, and they would be just as fierce as her brothers.

Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply, and Dumbledore turned on his heel and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer, mindful of the small child. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps - amusing Aurora immensly - so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry Potter." he murmured. He turned on his heel, holding the infant more firmly in his arms and with a swish of his cloak, he and the bundle was gone. A second later he appeared in an empty country lane, where the air was fresh and smelling strongly of freshly mowed grass. Aurora reacted almost instantly to the harsh feeling of Apparition, by throwing up over Dumbledore's cloak. Eyes twinkling, he siphoned it off with an effortless wave off his hand and continued up the dark lane without a pause.

A small tumbledown house seemed to form in the darkness, the air shimmered in the cool breeze, tinged with magic. Thick knots of ivy crawled up the sides of the house, and an apple tree loomed in front. Two figures stood waiting, one watching, the other pacing; overheard, a shower of stars burst into the black sky.

The pacing man looked up at the sound of Dumbledore's approach, and his tired, pale face stretched into a grim smile at the sight of the bundle. Remus Lupin looked as if he had aged ten years since Dumbledore seen him last, the usual pale, sickly look was down to his Lycanthropy but the dim look in his eyes was from the loss of his friends. Remus took his goddaughter and pulled her close to his chest. Like every time he had held her, he worried that he would drop her, or worse, hurt her.

"Is it true, Albus? Did he - did Sirius betray them?" Remus tore his eyes of his goddaughter and looked at the old wizard, who nodded glumly. Remus looked as if his world had just crumbled around him. The man behind him who had the same dark green eyes and greying hair clapped him on the shoulder in silent support.

"It certainly looks that way, Hagrid tells me he was there when he collected the children but why remains unseen." said Dumbledore. "I'm sure the Ministry is investigating as we speak." As Dumbledore said this, he pulled out his odd looking watch and inspected it again, before returning it to the inside of his cloak. "As a matter of fact, I should be heading off now, the Ministry will be in an uproar. I will be in touch; Good luck, Remus, Lyall." with a nod and a warm smile, Dumbledore turned on the spot again, and with a practiced swish, he was gone before either of the men or the infant could make a sound.

"James always called him mad." Remus said after a pause. Only the air stirred as they turned and headed inside the cottage.

That night as the wizarding world celebrated the demise of Lord Voldemort by the hands of a small boy, Aurora Potter rolled over in her blankets, cradled in the arms of her werewolf godfather, not knowing where her parents were, not knowing she had come inches from death and certainly not knowing her brother was the Boy Who Lived.


	3. Hogwarts Letter

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter but I do have the pleasure of owning Aurora and this plot.**

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 _ **Aurora Pov.**_

The water in the pond rippled in the light breeze, and the overgrown goldfish that my godfather Remus won at the seaside swam around unaware that it was being watched. Goldfishes were just as interesting as any other animal, if given the chance even fish won from a run down fairground could grow to be as huge as one purchaged from a shop. And the dim eyes that bulged on the sides didn't push its secrets onto me. Like all Muggle animals, it was as stupid as a troll, albeit a little bit more entertaining than trolls were.

Unlike the fish, I felt the piercing gaze on my back and looked behind me at the old cottage house I called home to find green eyes peering out the kitchen window. Remus stood at his usual spot overlooking our small garden, only with a frown marring his pale face. My godfather looked older than he was, his once brown hair becoming more grey as the months passed, and the lines on his face more prominent. He was also thin, and every now and then he would have fresh cuts on his face or hands. All of it was down to an illness he had tried to conceal from me for years: Lycanthropy.

But the truth had always been there for me to see. I was what people called a natural-born Legilimens, which meant I could see into the minds of anyone around me. Most people thought of it as mind-reading, and essentially, it was. Only thoughts were not scribbled into the mind, able to understand easily, the mind was a many layered thing, images, memories, feelings were all for me to see and feel. I could delve so far into a persons mind that I could see everything that made them, them. Remus thought my talent a gift, one many trained themselves to achieve and even then, still not coming as close in skill as a natural Legilimens but he didn't understand what it was like to have such a loud mind or to know what everyone around me was thinking. Sometimes I wished I could shut it off, especially when the pity thoughts began.

Turning away, I glared at the pond as Remus left the house and came to sit down beside me. I could 'feel' his mind, almost taste his humour and bristled. Maybe it was because I spent so much time with him that his mind was easier to 'see' into, like I was more familiar with it. The same went for his father Lyall, who was the only grandfatherly type figure I had. My parents were dead, killed when I was only a few months old by the dark wizard Lord Voldemort. It was that same night he met his demise at the hand of my older brother, Harry, who like my parents, I only knew from the glimispes stolen from my godfathers mind. Harry Potter, or famously known as The Boy who Lived, had been left with our mothers Muggle ( non-wizard folk ) sister and her family, to grow up where he could be safe, away from the prying eyes of the wizarding world.

Remus held a thick yellowish envelope out, and the loopy green writing that formed my name only made me angrier.

 **Miss A. Potter,**  
 **The back bedroom,**  
 **32 Oak lane,**  
 **Yorkshire.**

"I told you to burn it. I don't want to go."

"You look more like your mother everyday, more so when you make that face." Remus said amused as he broke the purple wax bearing a coat of arms; one I would recognise even asleep. A lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake surrounding a large letter 'H'. My Hogwarts letter had finally arrived, carried by a rather radiant brown barn owl. For a few minutes, I had been elated, squealing and jumping around like I had been gifted the best broomstick in the universe. I was going to Hogwarts, where all the memories Remus replayed in his head happened, where my parents had learned all their magic and where my brother currently went to school. I would have my own wand. That was the true dream; my own wand. I wouldn't need to steal Remus' or Lyall's to practice the spells in the books I had thumbed more times than my tattered copy of Beedle the Bard. But out of everything I would experience, it was finally meeting my brother that I looked forward too the most.

My bubble of joy popped when I locked eyes with Remus, and saw his longing smile. I saw a red steam engine, the Hogwarts Express, thick clogs of smoke covering the platfom, the parents and children that filled it and suddenly, I was running. Or Remus was. I saw an image I had seen a thousand times before. The first time Remus met my mother and father. They had been friends since that day, since they boarded the Hogwarts Express at my age until the night they died but such a thing was impossible for me. I never had a friend before, or even spent much time with children my age. And when I did, I found them more unbearible than I did adults. The mind of a child was even more of a maze than I cared to deal with.

"My mother wasn't a freak, Remus. I am." He sighed, rolled his eyes and pulled the letter out. Unable to stop myself, I glanced at it.

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY**

 **Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**  
 **(Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)**

 **Dear Miss Potter,**

 **We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**  
 **Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.**

 **Yours sincerely,**

 **Professor McGonagall**  
 **Deputy Headmistress.**

Trying to sound firm and the joy of my face, I snapped at him. "I'm _not_ going."

It was as if talking to a brick wall. My godfather looked over the book list, smiling lightly. Probing into his mind, I was annoyed when there was nothing to see. His mind was clear, focused intently on the yellow colour of the parchment in front of him.

"You are blocking me!" It was frustrating. I hated when I couldn't read someone, a very rare thing for me. Remus did it by boring me out of his mind, focusing on a blank wall or picturing a clear sheet of parchment or in this case, its colour. If he focused hard enough, and with a good grip on his emotions, he could successfully keep me out. For a little bit anyway.

"If you don't want to go, then you won't. But if you worry you won't make friends because your a Legilimens, then such fears are silly." said Remus lightly. "Your a bright witch, with a great talent, and with more magical knowledge in your pinky finger than I did at your age or your parents for that matter. If a werewolf can make friends at Hogwarts, then so can you."

I sighed, stood, took one look at the yellow parchment and turned away.

"Lightening never strikes in the same place twice, Remus even at Hogwarts."

He laughed, a wolfish laugh.

"Actually, such rare phenomenons do accure. Lightning can strike any location more than once, in fact Muggles have found that given enough time, it is actaully inevitible. That includes Hogwarts." Remus had an answer for everything, just like I did but it was infuriating in times like this. Hogwarts was any witch or wizards dream, and it had been mine for as long as I could remember but I would be the freak of the school. The freak that read minds, and had a werewolf for a guardian. Then there was the fear that Harry would hate me for not being shipped off into the Muggle world like he had been. From what Remus had been told, he had been Sorted into Gryffindor, and at the end of the year, once again twarted Lord Voldemort. I dreaded to think what his mind would be like. "You'll get a wand. I'll throw in a pet. Not a toad though, your dad would haunt me."

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth and without looking at him, I nodded. "As long as we can have ice cream at Floreans."

"Make it chocolate ice cream and you have a deal, Potter."

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 **I hope you like this chapter and Aurora. Reviews and comments are more than welcome, as is criticism, but try not to be too harsh. The next chapter will be up soon, hopefully in a day or two Thanks for reading!**


	4. Floo Powder

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter but Aurora is solely mine.**

 ** **Thank you for all the lovely reviews, and I hope you like this chapter.****

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It was a week later that I sat huddled in my room, sitting perfectly still upon my bed like a statue. Fingers pressed to my temples, I focused on clearing my mind before the onslaught of images that would pound me the minute I stepped into Diagon Alley. I had never seen the place quiet and every time we went, I always came back with a pulsing headache. Clearing my mind would only help so much though.

Yet, despite the dread that came with going out in public, I was beyond excited. I wanted nothing more than to finally get a wand, to see what new wonders lie in wait at the joke shop _**Gambles and Japes**_. I needed more **_Dr Filibusters Wet-Start No-Heat_** fireworks ( the remainder of the small collection I owned had been used on a thoroughly thought out plan to prank Remus, only the plan had somewhat backfired. Quite literally, in Lyall's unsuspecting face. ) and I could do with a few more books. There was also the new Nimbus Two Thousand and One, the fastest racing broom ever to gaze upon. The excitement didn't stop there, and as much as I tried, I couldn't find a solid argument to skip Hogwarts. Legilimancy aside, I wanted to go as much as the next witch. I wanted to see the Great Hall with my own eyes, I wanted to experience getting lost in the maze of castle and secret passageways, to see the grounds but most of all, I wanted to learn magic.

"Rory!" Lyall shouted gruffly down the hallway, disturbing my 'meditation', his voice thick from the smoke that billowed out of his pipe. "Your godfather is waiting, get a move on, girl."

Opening my eyes, I looked around my small bedroom. It was roomy, with a desk and a bookshelf rammed full of thick, worn books across from my bed and the old rocking chair Remus use to rock me to sleep in was by the window. As I got older, it became the chair he would tell his stories from either recounting epic tales from Hogwarts or rereading The Tale of the Three Brothers for the millionth time. The walls were covered in newspaper clippings, a few from Transfiguration Weekly, some torn out of potion books and posters of my favourite Quidditch team **_the Falmouth Falcons_**. There was one moving image of my parents at their wedding, and another with a small green eyed boy in my mums arms and the bundle Remus said was me in my fathers. The only other photo's were of me, Remus and Lyall. One was taken on my fourth birthday, a pink cake lit up with a sparkler. Another showed me holding a stunned Jarvey, grinning madly with a tooth missing. The Jarvey had taken to the back garden, something that greatly annoyed Lyall until it jumped out of a bush and knocked me over, swearing. It was the first time I had stunned something, and to date, the last. The final picture was from Christmas last year, a frosted, decorated tree sat in the background and we sat opening a present each as enchanted snow drifted down on us.

It was a perfectly ordinary bedroom I deemed, and for the next seven years, ordinary was the one thing I was hoping to achieve.

Sliding off my bed, I grabbed the cloak that lay discarded at the end of my bed and pulled it on as I slid my sock clad feet into my shoes before checking my appearance in the mirror. Grabbing a lone hair tie from my desk, I pulled my dark auburn hair into a rough ponytail. There was no point in nice presentation, not when I would be covered head to foot with ash and soot in five minutes time. Wizards had a few interesting ways to travel, either with Apparition, Portkey or the dreaded Floo network; the cheapest, safest way of travel. It was pretty simple, if you knew how to do it but nothing could prepare you for the soot or ash, or the dizzy, sick feeling I felt as I watched blurred fireplaces whip passed my eyes.

Five minutes later, I was standing in the living room, staring at the small pot of dust Lyall was holding with disgust. Lyall looked a lot like Remus, only plumper, older and he smiled easier. He also smelt of tobacco. Remus had gone ahead, the once green flames turning to their original colour. Lyall grinned, and tried offering me the pot once more.

"There's no getting out of it, once it's over, it's over." He paused, smiled wider and gave the pot a little jiggle. "Then you can start worrying about the journey back."

I scowled at him, and dropped my hand into the jar to take a handful. "You're an evil man, Lyall Lupin, an evil, evil man."

Throwing the dust into the flames, I shielded my eyes from the burst of bright, emerald flames that erupted in the hearth. Stepping into the roaring flames, I felt the warmth tickle against my skin like a warm summer breeze and prepared myself for the mouthful of ash that would invade my throat as I shouted my destination over the noise.

"Diagon Alley!" Less than second later, Lyall's amused face was whipped from my sight, and the churning began. Clamping my eyes shut and my hands pinned to my sides, I tried to ignore the seemingly endless spinning, the roaring in my ears and was thankful when suddenly I fell - face first into a warm body, sending them toppling over as well.

Scrambling backwards, red-faced and covered in dirt, I was surprised that I came face to face with a boy around my age. He was pale, with light blonde hair slicked backwards and dark grey eyes. He was good looking, I decided after a second, with a pointed chin. He was wearing a cloak, tinted a dark green with a snake emblem; now covered in soot. I wanted the ground to just swallow me up, and before I could so much as apologize, the boy roughly pulled himself to his feet and dusted himself off with pale hands.

"Can you watch where you land, you filthy -" He began coldly, his grey eyes flashing and the onslaught began.

I saw the past few seconds replay behind his eyes, felt the anger in his mind but before I could get a proper look the images seemed to disappear. I was flabbergasted, no one could clear their mind so quickly - at least I had never seen someone my age do it. Children were much louder than adults. My eyes went down to the snake on his chest. He was a Hogwarts student and a Slytherin.

"You go to Hogwarts, right?" I searched my mind trying to remember if Hogwarts taught the opposite to my gift - Occlumancy but realised such lessons would be futile. Natural Legilimens were rare. I was bursting to ask how he did that, it took a lot to be able to clear your thoughts the way he did. It was almost like a shield.

An annoying irritating shield.

He glanced at the fireplace behind me, and a second passed before he seemed to make some kind of decision - one I couldn't hear. A smug look crossed his face and he offered me a pale hand. It was then that I realised I was still on the cold dusty floor of the Leaky Cauldron, and the bustle of the pub seemed to come into focus. It was hard, sometimes impossible, to keep track of my surroundings when I got distracted by someone's mind. A quick glance around told me that no one had noticed my tumbling out, or it happened enough times that no one batted an eye. Remus was talking to Tom, the old, toothless barman that had the job of letting the wizarding folk into the street beyond the small courtyard behind his pub and a woman I remembered to be called Doris.

"Hogwarts second year." The boy said in a drawling tone, as he pulled me to my feet. His hand was cold, which was odd considering the countless fireplaces that was lit to warm the pub. "I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Malfoy. It was almost hard not to react to the name. The Malfoy's had been followers of Voldemort but I was far too interested in his mind to really care. Voldemort was gone and it would be unfair to treat him bad for his parents misdeeds. After all, the child wasn't always like the parent.

"Aurora Po-" Before I could finish, a shadow loomed over us and a cane with a serpent head cracked down on Draco's shoulder. A flicker of pain flashed around his face before instantly clearing. The shadow turned out to be a man, who I was almost certain was Draco's father. He had the same pale, pointed features, and he had the same blonde hair, only it was longer than his son's. He didn't smile, only looked me up and down like I rolled in something smelly. Something about his posture kept me from looking into his eyes. He freaked me out.

"Come, Draco." Said Mr Malfoy in a bored tone, cane still in place on Draco's shoulder. I narrowed my eyes at it. "We have business to attend too."

Draco nodded once, his face emotionless and his mind silent as his father lead him towards the bar, and out the back towards Diagon Alley. Remus was still talking to Tom, his back turned towards me.

"... Completely packed, Remus. You'll be better off waiting till its calmed down. Have another drink."

"Can't Tom, I'm waiting for Rory." As he spoke, he glanced at his watch and worry starting to roll of him in waves. "I'm hoping she got the right exit."

"She did," I scowled, and began to brush down my once clean cloak. I could feel the soot on my face, in my hair and wanted to hex the damned person who discovered the substance. I thought it was pretty fortunate that Ignatia Wildsmith died in the thirteenth century but even more unfortunate that her discovery didn't die _with_ her. "Do we have to use the floo again? I literally landed on someone this time!"

"Are they alright?" He cast his eyes around, his lips twitching. I could see he was trying to get a reaction from me, just as Lyall had as he smugly handed me the blasted stuff and it was working a treat.

"Are they alright?" I seethed. "They're fine! How about the goddaughter you sent hurtling through a dozen fireplaces?"

"I'd know if you were hurt, you wouldn't let me forget it." He turned back to Tom, thanked him and faced me. "It was Lyall's idea, if you must know. He's been waiting to get you back for three days now."

The fireworks. Of course.

"They were for you." I growled, now planning to find something to get the old man back.

"I know. Thats why I allowed it. After all, a Marauder always gets their revenge."

Following him out to the small walled courtyard, I thought of different ways I could get them back. Both of them.

After all, a Marauder always gets their revenge.


	5. Ollivanders

**Disclaimer: Again, Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling, the lucky lady, I only have Aurora and her reality.**

 **Author note: I want to thank you all for giving this story the time it takes to read, it means the world to me as do all your reviews. If you have any criticism then it is more than welcome as are reviews! I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

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Remus pulled his wand out, and began to tap at the brick wall, three up and two across. The last brick he touched began to quiver, then wiggle and in the middle a small hole appeared. It grew wider and wider until finally we were facing a huge archway leading onto the cobbled street that was Diagon Alley. The sun was shining brightly, gleaming on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. _Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Sliver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible_ read a sign hanging above. Beside the cauldron store was an apothecary's, and a little further down a dark shop produced low hoots with another sign saying _Eeylops Owl Emporium..._

It never creased to amaze me. Everywhere wizards strolled; both young and old buying robes, potion equipment or haggling with stall owners. A huge crowd surrounded Flourish and Blotts, all jostling to get inside. A closer look told me that most of the crowd was middle aged witches, some of which seemed eager to look their best.

"Whats going on?" I questioned, wondering if this was what Tom had warned Remus about. The reason for the crowd was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows: GILDEROY LOCKHEART will be signing copies of his autobiography MAGICAL ME today 12.30 -4.30 pm.

"Lyall thinks this man is a fraud." I said looking up at Remus, ignoring the glares from two ladies that happened to overhear. "I do too."

"And what gives you that impression?" Remus asked with a smile. He was a lot happier today, the shadow that usually hung over him seemed to have vanished.

"If he really fought a werewolf, like his books says, would he look so well... groomed?" I knew well enough that he wouldn't, for Remus' monthly tranformations could leave quite a mess. To himself and anyone who came near him during the process, not that they did. Remus was forced to endure those painful nights alone, away from humans. "Can I skip Gringotts? I want to see if I'm right."

Gringotts was the wizarding bank, the safest place in Britain to store gold. It went miles below London and was run by Goblins, nasty creatures should you try and steal from them but there was also the rumour of dragons. Of course, it had never been proven to me, unless you counted the flash of red I was positive was fire that whizzed past on the carts.

"You'll have enough time to prove your theory later," Remus said as he placed a hand on my shoulder and began to steer me through the crowd. One look at his shabby clothes and the woman automatically parted, granting us space to move through. "It's high time you visited your vault."

For years I knew Remus had taken on the hard job of housing, clothing and feeding me, even with all the problems he faced in the workplace because of his affliction. He was often forced to take on unpleasant jobs far below his skills and through he had succeeded in giving me everything I wanted, there was no way he could afford the books on the school-list. But now I was school age, which meant I was allowed the gold left to me from my parents. I knew it was enough to last years and it would certainly help Remus.

Five minutes later we were standing outside a snowy-white building which towered over the other smaller shops. Standing in front of burnished bronze doors, wearing uniform of scarlet and gold was a goblin. I wasn't much taller than him, and he had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and very long fingers and feet. The goblin bowed as we entered, and we came to another set of doors, silver this time; with words engraved upon them:

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

 _For those who take, but do not earn,_

 _Must pay most dearly in their turn,_

 _So if you seek beneath our floors,_

 _A treasure that was never yours,_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

This time a pair of goblins bowed us through and suddenly we were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more Goblins were sitting on high stools behind long counters, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins on brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There was to many doors leading off the hall, towarts the carts and yet somehow more Goblins were showing people in and out of those. Gringotts had always fascinated me, it was one big secret that even I couldn't unravel. I followed Remus towards the counter, and watched one of the Goblins weigh a small mountain of Galleons.

"Good Morning," Remus said to a free Goblin as he fished into his patched up pocket. He pulled out a tiny gold key and put it on the counter for the Goblin to inspect. "We have come to make a withdrawl from Miss Aurora Potter's safe."

It took a second for the Goblin to declare that it was all in order before calling for another Goblin.

"Gurnuk!" Following him, he led us through one of the doors, where the marble ended and a narrow, stone passage way lit with flaming torches began. It sloped steeply downwards and there was a little railway track on the ground. Gurnuk whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks towards us. A second later all three of us was seated, Gurnuk at the front and the cart began to move again. Gurnuk didn't steer.

Hurtling through a maze of twisting passages, it was impossible to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, left fork then right again but like each cart ride, I tried to do the impossible. Cold air stung my eyes as the air rushed past, but I still saw the flare of red at the end of a passage, causing me to eagerly grip the cart sides in the hope of glimpsing a dragon. We plunged even deeper instead, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor. At long last the cart came to a sudden stop beside a small door in the passage wall. Clumbering out, Gurnuk approached the door and unlocked it. A lot of green smoke billowing out, and as it cleared, I sucked in a breath. Inside the vault was mounds of golden Galleons, columns of silver Sickles, heaps of little bronze Knuts.

I grinned, and eyed Remus.

"Does this mean I can have a broom now?"

"Your father would approve, I'm sure but first years aren't allowed brooms." He said smiling as he handed me a bag. Together we filled the bag before heading back to the cart. One wild cart ride later, we stood blinking in the sunlight outside the bank. Remus looked at his watch before nodding towards _Malkin's Robes for all Occasions_. "Where too first? Your choice."

Eager and with a pocket filled with gold, I debated on that. "Do you really have to ask?"

"Ollivanders then?"

Grinning, I nodded and rushed off into the direction of the dusty little shop. Peeling gold letters over the door read _Ollivanders; Makers of fine wands since 382 BC._ A single wand lay on a purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which Remus went and sat down on to wait. It felt like I'd stepped into a very strict library, only instead of books lining the walls, thousands of narrow, thin boxes piled neatly right to the ceiling. The back of my neck prickled, the hairs standing up on end. The very dust and slience seemed to tingle with secret magic.

Feeling eyes on me, I looked towards the darkened narrow gap between the ceiling length shelves and found a pair of wide, pale eyes shining like moons at me.

"Good morning." He said in a soft voice, stepping out of the dark. Mr Ollivander was old man with wispy white hair.

"Hello, I'd -" but he cut me off, his silvery eyes drifting once over to Remus.

"Ah, yes," He said, "I thought I would be seeing you soon, Aurora Potter. You have your father's eyes. It seems only yesterday that he was in here buying his first wand. He favoured a mahogany, eleven inches long, pliable. Powerful and excellent for Transfiguration work. Your mother on the other hand, bought a willow wand, ten and a half inches, swishy. A nice wand for Charm work."

Mr Ollivander moved closer, his eyes telling me nothing of importance. He remembered every wand he made and sold, and the owners they choose. His eyes were so clear that it felt like wading through a clear pool, navigating through the ripples. I saw what he was telling me, the mahognay and the willow, but there was a third one he remembered. _Harrys_.

"And Harry's?" I asked, far too eager to remember the need to keep hush about the things I saw. "You remember it, I know you do."

I heard a creak behind me, and knew Remus had made to stand. Mr Ollivander seemed unfazed by my question and smiled.

"You are right. I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Potter. Every single wand. Your brother favoured a curious choice, very curious. Holly and pheonix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. Well, its really the wand that choose the wizard, of course."

"Why is that curious? His wand, I mean?"

"Your brother asked the same question, but something tells me you won't need me to answer that question." The silver eyes slid past me towards Remus who was looking rather stressed. I didn't need to be a Legilimens to read the look in his eyes. Remus was worried. "Remus Lupin! How nice to see you again.. Unicorn hair, cyprus, ten and a quarter inches. A good wand for defensive work."

"That it is," Remus said with a fond smile. It didn't reach his eyes, which were staring into me.

Mr Ollivander turned back to me and asked me to hold out my wand arm, meaning my left, as he pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. He bagan to measure me from shoulder to finger tip, the wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and around my head. He talked as he worked. "Every Ollivander wand has a core of powerful magical substantce, Miss Potter. We use unicorn hairs, the heartstrings of dragons, and Pheonix feathers. No two Ollivander wand is the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or pheonixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get the same results with another wizards wand."

Leaving the tape measure to do its job, Mr Ollivander left my side for the selves of dusty narrow boxes. "That will do," He said as he pulled a box down. The tape measure crumbled to the floor. "Right then, Miss Potter, try this one. Ash and dragon heartstring, nine inches. Unyielding. Just take it and give it a wave."

Taking the wand, I gave it a wave but before anything happened, Mr Ollivander whipped it back out of my hand. He produced another, unicorn hair, cypress, eleven inches before that too was taken back and placed on the counter.

"Try this one, Phoenix feather, beechwood, eleven and a half inches. A nice wand for charms." Again, the wand was taken back. "No, no, definately not! Cherry and dragon heartstring, quite bendy..." Wand after wand, Ollivander tried and took back, the bigger the pile got the happier he seemed to became. In the beginning I had no idea what he was waiting for but as each one was taken back, I began to catch on. The wand chooses the wizard, and none of them chose me.

"You Potters are proving to be tricky, not to worry, not to worry." He said, his sliver eyes glowing through the dark sleves as he pulled another box down. Remus was watching with interest, curiousity pouring off him in waves. "We'll find the perfect match in here somewhere."

He brought out another, and another before finally he disappeared right down the end of the selves and out of sight. The shop was small enough that his soft voice could still be heard. "I wonder - yes, why not -" He appeared out of the shelves, silver eyes reflecting hot sandy plains. The image confused me but before I could look deeper, he was speaking softly. "This one, Miss Potter, is a thunderbird feather, eleven and a half inches, Cedar. Quite tricky yet powerful. Very powerful."

This one looked different from the others, with runes engraved into the wood. Taking the wand, I instantly felt the difference. Almost as if my hand was saying hello to an old friend. Raising it above my head, I brought it slashing back down through the dusty air and a shower of green and silver sparks shot out the end and bounced of the walls like one of my Filibuster fireworks. Remus clapped loudly, a shocked look one his face as Mr Ollivander cried out. "Oh yes, bravo! Bravo! and yet like young Mr Potter.. curious."

He took the wand and placed it back into its box, before wrapping it in brown paper.

"Thunderbird?" I searched my brain, trying to remember what Lyall had told me about those creatures. He had never met one but he said they had a head like a Hippogriff, and processed three huge powerful wings that shimmered different colours. They created storms as they flew, but they lived in hot, sandy climates and like their cousins, Phoenixes, preferred to be solitary beasts. Yet Mr Ollivander mentioned using only three types of cores. "But you said you only used three core types."

"There are many types of wand cores, Miss Potter, this thunderbirds feather came all the way from America, with the wandmaker, Shikoba Wolfe." Mr Ollivander began, fixing me with a silver stare. I saw a woman at a table, gifting a young man a iridescent feather and teaching him the secrets within. "Early in my career, as I watched my wandmaker father wrestle with substandard core materials such as kelpie hair, I conceived the ambition to discover the finest cores and work only with them. This I have done, after much experimentation and research. It was with Wolfe that I learned that the thunderbird is a tricky wand to match. Difficult to master and temperamental should they sense danger, much like the bird they come from. It is safe to say that great things will come of you, Aurora Potter, with this wand at your side."

I shivered. Remus stood and I took that as a sign to say we had to go. Thanking Mr Ollivander, for both the wand and this new wealth of information, I paid seven gold Galleons before Remus steered us out.

It was an hour later that finally we headed towards _Flourish and Blotts_ , with the crowd still fighting to get in or was it out? There seemed to be an awful lot of commotion and shouting, I recognised the assisants voice and heard yells of "Get him, Dad!"

"Look, Remus, there's Hagrid!" A man towering over everyone else was wading through the sea of people towards the fight. He was too big to be real, with wild black hair and beard that hid most of his face. A hug from Hagrid was similar to having your bones crushed and I wondered often if he had giant blood.

Hagrid pulled the fight apart, and a minute later, Mr Malfoy came pushing out of the crowd, a menacing look in his eyes. He looked ruffed up, his eye looking a little swollen and his hair and clothes dishevelled. Draco followed behind, looking no happier than his father, muttering. "Stupid, famous Harry Potter. Bet he loved that.."

Less than a second later Hagrid was leaving the shop, much to the assisants pleasure only this time he was followed by a group of people. Most of them had flaming red hair, all but four of them. As soon as I glimpsed a flash of green, I knew it was him. There standing next to the smallest red haired boy was a boy that looked the mirror image of James Potter, only this boy had a scar on his forehead, green emerald eyes and was covered in soot remains.

Unable to contain the excitement of _finally_ meeting my long lost brother, I ran at him and flung my arms around his neck.

"Harry! It's you, its really you!"


	6. Brother

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter but I do own Aurora.**

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In my excitement I didn't realise how tight I was hugging him, and quickly apologized as he gasped out a breathless; "Cant.. breath.."

Looking him over, I was reminded strongly of James Potter. He looked nothing like me but Hagrid said as much. He had the same jet black hair that his baby-self had only instead of a messy tuft, it had grown all over the place, and shocked green eyes the same as our mother stared at me through round glasses. He was taller than me, and thin which was made worse by the clothes he wore; which seemed to belong to someone three times his size. The sleeves had been rolled up, and the bottom hung lower than it should, his trousers held up by an ugly brown belt. I didn't know what was worse, his trousers or the awful shirt he wore.

"What are you doing here?" He blurted out shocked. I glanced back at Remus, who came rushing after me. Now he held back, his mind mysteriously blank. He had been dreading this day for his own reasons. Deciding I would give him his privacy, I turned back and beamed.

"I start Hogwarts this year. That's Remus -" I nodded towards Remus, reading the confusion in Harry's eyes. "my godfather, how has your summer been? Are you with mums family?"

Looking over the small bundle of people behind him, I quickly realised he wasn't. They were the Weasleys, a pure blood family I had heard about from Hagrid last year. Lyall had said that they were the only Pure-blood family to protest when their name had been added into The _Sacred Twenty-Eight_ , a book listing all the Pure-bloods in Britain. He said you could tell a 'Weasley' from the get-go; red hair, freckles, hand-me-down clothes and more children than most wizards would care to deal with. He also said they were the nicest family and Remus only had good words about them. They had been against Voldemort, and had lost family members trying to stop him. He _was_ with Muggles though, two from the looks of it but the resemblance to the brown, bushy haired girl was clear. These were his friends.

"Er, no, I'm staying with the Weasleys." He said simply and didn't elaborate on the whereabouts of our only remaining family. It was easy to look into his mind, easier with the layer of shock and I drank his story in. For the first time, I 'saw' my dead mothers sister; pulling a memory to the surface of his mind. She was a thin woman, with a horsey face and a long neck, she was clutching onto a walrus of a man, with no neck and small, pig like eyes and a mustache. He held a Muggle weapon - a long tube like thing that shot things called bullets. It didn't feel like a good memory, and so I looked deeper, investigating the family I didn't know. The things I saw were not good and I realised that Hagrid was quite right when he said he had never met worser Muggles. They had lied to him for eleven years, forced him to sleep in a cupboard, feeding him enough so that he lived. He had been bullied by our cousin, Dudley who looked much better in the memory with the pigs tail on his bottom, almost making me laugh. It had been Hagrid who told him everything, after a stampede of ignored Hogwarts letters the year before. I saw it all up to the point of his encounter with Voldemort, pulling out of his memories before he walked down the stone steps towards possible death. I had been prepared for it, and still couldn't bring myself to look. I didn't want to, even with the knowledge that he lived. It would do no good pulling such memories up and if I could avoid it, then you could bet I was going too.

"I didn't think I'd meet you until Hogwarts - this is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, my best friends and their families..." He introduced everyone, Ron stammered red-faced and Hermione mentioned that both of us was mentioned in the books _R_ _ise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_ , both of which I had forced Remus to get years ago. Ginny, the only red haired girl in the group was also starting Hogwarts this year. By the time I was shaking hands with the Grangers, I was overwhelmed and my head was thundering.

"Harry, are you quite sure she's your sister?" One of the twins, Fred, asked, a grin plastered on his face. His twin George wore an identical smile. As soon as Harry had introduced them I knew they would be trouble. Other than Hagrid, they had the simplest minds, (if you could call Hagrids unwavering silence simple; I never saw even a hint of his thoughts.) They were pranksters, and lived for a joke. The amusement I felt coming from them was contagious; I would get along with them, I could see that. I could also see myself causing mayhem with them.

"Your right there, Fred, she's not a scrawny, specky git like Harry." His twin grinned. Their mother, a plump, kind lady shot them a glare and they fell silent.

"You'll get use to them if your in Gryffindor House," said Harry grinning despite being called a scrawny, specky git. "Have you finished your shopping, maybe you could join us at the Leaky Cauldron?"

Harry seemed eager to see me now that he seemed less shocked, which delighted me, especially with my worry over him hating me. Instead, his mind showed nothing but happiness, even a hint of disbelief. Disbelief that he had a sister - a family.

It was easy to see why, after all he had only found out about me last year. I, on the hand had grown up with the knowledge of who I was, who he was, why our parents were gone. He had been in the dark and it was he who defeated Lord Voldemort, it was him who survived the killing curse. I had barely been two months old when it happened.

It was that moment that I swore to punish the Dursleys. I didn't know how I would do it, but I would. Even with the knowledge of what he could do, they still bullied and pushed Harry around. That couldn't be allowed. I wondered how they got away with it, wasn't he there for safety? Instead his mind was littered with more abuse than I'd ever seen, the closet, the meagre meals, the hand-me-down clothes, the beatings he received from our cousin. All the punishments from Accidental magic and yet, they had somehow failed to wash away the goodness in him. I knew that if our positions had been reversed, they would have suffered long before Hagrid gave Dudley that tail.

It was mostly down to Remus and Lyall that I had such good control over my sinister talent. If I had been left in the hands of vile Muggles, who knows what would've happened. There was a reason I was scared of it, because I knew what I could do. I could do more than see all who you were, or see what you were thinking or feeling. I could turn the mind against itself, make you see things that aren't there; even torture you if I wanted too. All the things that Lord Voldemort and others before him was well known to do.

Rattled by what I found, I didn't notice that Harry was waiting for my answer, along with the crowd behind him, only Hagrid looked as if he understood what was wrong. Thankfully, Remus covered for me. He stepped forward and firmly put a hand on my shoulder, effectively tearing me out of my thoughts. I was more than use to the strange looks I got when I zoned out but it felt different coming from Harry.

I was such a freak.

"We'd love to, Harry, but Rory still needs a few things - of course, it looks like it'll be a while until we get through this horde." He looked pointedly towards _Flourish and Blotts_ , a tired looking smile creeping onto his face. Furious that Remus was passing up the chance to spend time with Harry, I glared up at him. Thundering head or not, I wouldn't pass this up for even a unicorn, which in my option, would make the best gift ever; much better than the Muggle dream of owning a horse.

"That can wait, Lockheart is signing until 4:30." I said forcefully, staring Remus down with a look worthy of a hippogriff. His mental wall was firmly in place, determined as ever to keep me out. I pushed against it, trying to break through.

Hagrid, who had years of seeing me unleash my talent, knew what I was doing and like before with the fight he'd stopped, decided to play referee again.

"Actually, Remus, I was hopin' for a chat." He said hastily, moving past the crowd of Weasleys and clapping Remus on the shoulder with a hand the size of a dustbin lid, causing Remus' knees to nearly buckle. I tore my eyes away, happy with my small victory and grinned at Harry, who looked curiously between the three of us suspiciously. "Its the ruddy centaurs again.."

Over the years I had heard a lot about the centaurs Hagrid worked around, not that they interacted much. Hagrid was the Hogwarts Gameskeeper, whos job was to tend the school grounds and keep the forest creatures somewhat in check, including the herd of centaurs that called the place home. Centaurs hated wizards and Hagrid was often forced to intervene when they got out of hand. Lyall thought that whilst they were somewhat interesting, they were more hassle than necessary.

It seemed that Hagrid had distracted Remus, who I knew was only trying to protect me but right now, I didn't want it. I also didn't care for his cowardice, silent or not I knew what was running through his mind. He felt he had failed Harry, and by extension our father. I knew he was going to spiral into some form of self-loathing, especially if he were to find out just how awful Harry had been treated and if he didn't, sooner or later the guilt of putting not one of his best friends children in constant peril but two would creep up.

Moving to Harrys side, I looped my arm through his.

"I can't believe its really you. You look so much like dad, only with -"

"Mums eyes, I know, I've been told." He said with a grin as we headed after the Weasleys; Harid loomed a good few heads taller than everyone, leading the way. Harry looked down at our looped arms, and frowned slightly.

 _'This will take some getting use to.'_ He thought.

And he was right, it would.

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 **Aurora's time before school is quickly coming to an end, two more chapters max and her journey officially begins. I will be working to update later on in the week, so fingers crossed on that. Thank you for giving my story a shot and please review, Id love to hear what you think!**


	7. The Leaky Cauldron

**Disclaimer: I don't own Potter but Aurora is mine.**

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"So what's Surrey like?" I asked, hands cupped around a goblet of pumpkin fizz.

It was hard to picture his home, the sprawling streets, the square houses, the gardens prunned to perfection. Yorkshire was nothing like that, even with a small village like Upper Flagley. Instead you could see the purple heather that sprawled across the moors, ivy clung to nearly all the cottages and it wasn't entirely odd for farmers to walk their cattle through the lanes, blocking Muggle transport.

"Boring." Harry summed up with a grin. The Leaky Cauldron was quieter than normal, most of the customers had moved beyond the wall to see the famed Lockheart, leaving a handful of people for Tom to serve. They looked somewhat creepy, in the far corner, an old wizard sat shrouded in darkness, his drink stirring itself. A small group of cloaked men sat hunched over a table, with no drinks and speaking in whispers. Every now and then, I caught them passing items under the table. Something told me whatever they were doing, it wasn't strictly legal. Remus was with Hagrid, discussing centaurs at the bar. The Wealseys had spread themselves out, the twins sat bent over a product I recognised from _Gambles and Japes_. Mrs Weasley was with Ginny and the others, the Grangers like Remus was with me, sent their daughter looks every now and then. I felt sorry for them and the inquisition Mr Weasley was forcing them to endure. A glimpse in his mind told me that he was Muggle obsessed, making this a golden opportunity for Mr Weasley. "And the Dursleys are awful, so nothing to report there. What's it like living with wizards? Ron's house is the first wizard home I've been too and it's brilliant."

Ron's house did look amazing, even if a little shabby but I couldn't say nothing. Our cottage was falling apart, faster than Remus was able to repair it.

"We live in Yorkshire just outside Upper Flagley." I said, grinning. I loved it there, the farmers were not awful, and there was space that even a werewolf could roam without harming someone. If he picked off one of the animals, the blame was shifted to the foxes. That wasn't the only benefit to Yorkshire, sometimes if you were lucky you got to see the Quidditch pitch hidden in the moors in use, wizards from the village making an event of it. "Remus works in the village when he can, but mostly he followed in his dad, Lyall's steps. They hunt down dangerous creatures, mostly Boggarts or out of control Grindylows in the area, but they haven't come across anything really dangerous in years."

Harry looked impressed and all three of them gave Remus a long look as if trying to picture him taking down a rather ugly troll. I'd seen the look on most people faces when they heard of Remus' once in awhile job. It was understandable why as Remus always looked like he could do with a long nap, or just recovering from a serious bout of illness. But it was mostly down to magical knowledge and how to deal with the beasts than brute strength, something not many people knew.

"You don't sound like you live in Yorkshire," said Hermione curiously, which was entirely truthful. I didn't but I was almost sure that was because I was pretty much a recluse. I may not be as famous as Harry where I was noticed on the spot but it was common knowledge amoung the wizard folk that Lily and James only daughter lived in the village which meant I was often subjected to pitying stares. It was also harder to deal with their minds, something about the accent muddled me up and made it harder for me to interpret. I hated that more than the staring.

"I pretty much stick myself and I think it helps that Remus and Lyall don't have one either." It wasn't a lie but it wasn't exactly the truth. I didn't entirely feel comfortable with Harry's friends, like I was stepping in on something I shouldn't. I had to remind myself that, essentially, I was a stranger that happened to share the Potter name. They had been friends since the school train and from what I'd seen, followed him towards possible death last year. There was no way I could compete with that.

"I bet you know loads though, more than I did." Harry said, I heard and tasted the envy in his tone. "It was because of Hagrid that I learned why I was getting letters, I didn't know anything. The Dursleys hate magic so they kept it all a secret."

The reminder of what the Dursleys done to him made my blood boil a little but mostly, it reminded how selfish I was. I had a loving home, my own belongings and never once had I gone without, even when Remus struggled to rub two Galleons together. Yet, I felt like I was still missing a huge part of me. I would give it all up in a heartbeat to turn back the time and have our parents sitting in his friends places, chatting without a care in the world just like the Weasleys were across the room. Or even to have Harry by my side through it all, the Dursleys forgotten.

Shaking myself mentally, I knew that there was no point in wallowing in the past; I wasn't Remus and it wouldn't change anything. Lily and James Potter would still be dead, Harry would still be The Boy who Lived and stuck living with those Muggles and I would still be myself, Legilimens and all. No amount of self-pity could undo that.

"I know a few things." I admitted after a sip of my pumpkin fizz. "But I don't think it'll be much help at Hogwarts. You don't start Magical creatures until third year and Hagrid says the Potions Master can be brutal."

The three exchanged a knowing look and I saw a man with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and cold unforgiving eyes.

"Snapes awful." Ron said, grimacing. "Favours the Slytherins, hates Harry, mind."

I had heard the name Snape before, in some particular horrible memories of Remus'. He was labelled in the ever growing list of things Remus felt guilty over but it surprised me that this Snape hated Harry.

"Are you awful at Potions?" I asked, wrinkling my nose at the thought. Remus was sure my love of the subject came from mum, but in truth, it came from wanting to help him with his monthly issues. The recent discovery of the Wolfsbane potion was a huge break-through but it wasn't enough. It helped the drinker keep their mind when otherwise they would turn into a complete beast. With it, a Werewolf could curl up and sleep until the full moon waned, with their mind intact. They still felt everything, their bones snapping and reforming into a wolf - worse than torture really. That wasn't the only problem with the potion but the price of the ingredients and the complexity of the potion itself was daunting to most. One slip up and the potion was poisonous.

"Its not my best subject." Harry admitted sheepishly. "Defence Against the Darks Arts would be good if we had a decent teacher. I hope Lockheart will be better than Quirrell."

"Lockheart is the new Defence teacher?" Everyone knew that the Defence post was rumoured to be cursed, every year a new teacher came and something usually happened before the year was up. It explained why most of my book list involved his entire collection. It was a good way to sell his books, sneaky almost.

"Yeah, he said it as handed me his autobiography. I wish he hadn't noticed me," Harry grimaced and flattened his impossible hair down over his scar. It didn't stay put. "You don't think it'll make the front page?"

Ron shrugged, looking unsure.

"I think it will, Harry.." Hermione said biting her lip but she went bright red as she continued in the same breath. "He'll be much better than Professor Quirrell, I mean he's a professional, he's written the whole book list!"

I frowned, he had set everyone the same books? I smirked, mentally calculating his intake from the students alone. He was definitely smart, clearly a Ravenclaw or a Slytherin. It didn't matter if he was a fake, he had set himself up for life.

"I think he's a fraud." I said bluntly.

Hermione seemed to choke on air. She gaped at me, like I'd just confessed to skinning live bunny rabbits. Harry frantically shook his head at me, looking strangely panicked. I already knew why and resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Hermione was a model student, top of her class in every subject and with good reason, she spent most of her life bent over a book and clinging to the facts she read, always remembering the text word for word; which I found rather unintelligent but mostly, she was close-minded. She didn't challenge what she read and she didn't believe in something unless proven with a book.

"Haven't you heard of all the great things he's done? All the awards he's gotten?"

"Read his books, ignore what he looks like, then try and say that again." She was just like every woman and girl that looked at him/ I could see into her mind so it was clear to me that her admiration was because of his looks, not because she was a true fan. Not wishing to continue the conversation in fear of a disagreement, I glanced at Harry and decided to extend him an invitation to our house. As long as it wasn't around the full moon, Remus would be fine with it. I just hoped Ron didn't mind.

"I should be going but if you wanted, you could come over sometime?" He looked disappointed that I was leaving but I felt his surprise at being invited to come over. A grin stretched across his face. "Our fireplace is connected with the Floo Network so you can drop by anytime."

"Sure, that's if its alright with Mrs Weasley and Remus." I rolled my eyes.

"So long as its ok with your friends. Remus won't have a problem." I said with a smile.

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 **Author note: I'd love to know what you all think, even if you despise my story. I hope you like this chapter, it sort of just wrote itself so if you don't like it, then opps.. Thank you for taking the time to read, both Aurora and I love each and every one of you!**


	8. Warning

**Disclaimer: I don't own Potter but Aurora and other O.C are mine.**

 **Author note: Its been awhile since I've updated and Im sorry about that but with Christmas and New Year, I didn't have time to write. I hope to make that up to you with an extra long chapter, the last before Aurora starts Hogwarts. Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year and I hope you like this chapter!**

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The sky glowed a deep burgundy as the sun set, giving away tomorrows forecast, a slight breeze rippling the grass gently. I was sat outside the cottage, _A Weekend with a Werewolf by Gilderoy Lockheart_ open on my lap as I waited for Lyall to return home from the Ministry. Remus was shut in his room, resting from the strain of this month's full moon.

It had been a slow day, spent prowling over books with little break. There was not a sound around, no voices talking, no creaking wood from the floor boards inside. The only sound came from the rustle of the apple tree, the wind in the grass, the parchment as I turned the pages of Lockhearts book. It was a peace that I knew I would miss when I was at Hogwarts, where tranquillity and quietness was far and few in-between.

There was only three more days left until then, until I would officially be a Hogwarts student. I wondered vaguely what house I would be sorted into, if I would be a Gryffindor like my parents, like Harry, and every Potter that attended the school, and whilst it sounded almost perfect, something put me off the thought. Was I brave? Did I have that daring nerve Harry had, that his friends had? Daring enough to put myself in a situation that could potentially be fatal? Or was I a Ravenclaw? There was a strong likelihood of that happening, more so than being a Gryffindor. Books were my sanctuary, letting me soak in information without having to wheedle it from someone. Knowledge was power, the more you had, the better off you'll be. Also safer. I wouldn't entirely mind being a Slytherin, despite the common belief that they were evil to the core. Slytherins were ambitious, often going far in life even with a little cunning and Merlin himself had been a Slytherin. It was an encouraging fact. I didn't care which house I was put into so long as it wasn't Hufflepuff House, a house I was positive wasn't a place I would end up. As a Legilimens I was one step ahead of everyone around me, ruling out fair play and I wasn't afraid of showboating when I accomplished something new. Yellow also wasn't my colour, clashing horribly with my hair.

Yet, I held out for Gryffindor. I was a Potter, after all, and being in the same house as Harry would give us a chance to see each other, to build a relationship that siblings should have. The image of walking into Gryffindor tower, and telling Harry about the stuff he likely learned the year before was tempting just like the wish to play on the same Quidditch team, him as Seeker and myself as a chaser, like our father.

I shook my head of my thoughts, knowing if I thought too much on it, I would begin to worry and panic. There was three days until then, and in all likelihood, I would end up with Harry; my worries unneeded. So instead I focused on the elegant writing in front of me and ignored the urge to burn it. As it were, that was all the book was worth, not the five Galleons I paid.

 _"There is nothing quite as fierce as the werewolf. By day a chap just like myself could pass as an ordinary fellow - as charming as you please only to harbour a deeper, darker nature. With the glare of the full moon, said fellow will turn into a fearsome beast and will attack any human he comes across. There is a very fortunate spell that exists that will, in fact, turn a transformed werewolf back into his human form..."_

I raised a brow and snorted. Next to me was a pile of glossy books with Gilderoy Lockheart's face beaming from the top of said pile. Each was filled with fictional information but sometimes you would come across something that was actually right. He could, at the very least, point out the differences between a werewolf and an ordinary wolf but if such a spell existed then Lyall would've learned it years ago; officially ending the monthly doom that settled upon our home. It was almost a waste of time reading them, a waste of Galleons that after looking into Lockhearts eyes I realised was indeed going into the pocket of a fraud. Not one of the achievements he'd written about was his and I felt almost compelled to tell the entire shop and the fans that looked _so_ _eager_ to meet him. So instead I was set to make his year hell, revenge for making me waste my gold but first, I would need a little more information on the man, and boy, did his books provide. Leaked throughout each was his likes, dislikes, opinions and everything else that the conniving Ravenclaw thought interesting was there.

I grinned as I came across his secret ambition, which wasn't entirely in tone with the subject. It was a book on werewolves, yet he slipped it in anyway. Peace between Muggles and wizard-kind - clearly he hadn't been to Upper Flaggly where the Muggles hardly noticed that more than a few families weren't normal, unless the Quidditch pitch in the Moors got their attention.

 **Crack!**

The silence was punctured with a sound like a whip being cracked. I gave a squeal of surprise, my arm flinging out and sending the pile of books next to me tumbling. Expecting Lyall back, I was surprised by what actually made the sound. Huge green eyes stared down at me, and I quickly took in the small creature. Thin spindly arms, bat-like ears and wearing a dirty pillowcase with holes for arms and legs.

I was very surprised to find a _house-elf_ standing only a step away from me.

The elf stared at me for a second as I scrambled to my feet. I didn't know much about house elves, just that they were a sign of money in the wizarding world. Often expected to be seen in manor houses and with old, pure blooded families. An order from their family couldn't be ignored, nor could they wear clothes, the pillow-case being the exception.

"Who are you?" I asked sternly, wondering if I should pull out my wand or call for Remus even if that would be pointless. Nothing short of a Erumpent storming the cottage would wake him now.

"Dobby, miss, Dobby the house elf. Dobby is sorry for scaring miss, but Dobby's been waiting for Aurora Potter to be alone..." Said the elf in a high pitched voice.

This, I narrowed my eyes at. I wasn't entirely sure how house elf magic worked but it was sufficient enough that a thousand of the little things could go entirely unnoticed when using it, even by wizards. It was why they made perfect servants other than the fact it made them incredibly happy to serve. The interesting thing about them was they couldn't ignore a direct command from their masters. Only the free could and they were rarer than a pet Nundo. So either someone had sent this elf, or he was here on his own behalf, which was very, very odd.

That didn't explain why he knew I was alone - for one Remus was inside, asleep but one shout and this little elf would have a tired, pained werewolf coming down on him, a terrifying sight if truth be told. There was also the question of the wards. Were they still up or had Dobby trampled all over them? And if they were still up, like my gut told me they were, just _how_ did he bypass them? Was it just the benefit of their magic, to be able to reach their masters no matter what enchantments and charms were placed on their homes? It would make sense, to be able to serve as faithfully as they could. It was clever really, if that was the case and it wasn't at all strange when one thought about it. An owl could deliver a letter even without an address, just a name and it took a complicated charm for a wizard to hide from them. Wizarding creatures were, simply put, _smart_. Something wizards didn't bother to notice once faced with their own brilliance.

Behind all those questions was a slightly darker question. Was his mind like ours? Could I infiltrate it like I could wizards? He was a magical creature but there was still a mind there. A mind I could, theoretically, get into. Only there was dangers to jumping willy nilly into minds, especially nonhuman creatures; something I wasn't sure was even _possible_. I wasn't quite so eager to try it out either for the sake of an experiment. Deciding quickly I would wait for the elf to speak before I took the dangerous route of invading his mind, I chose to enquire about the wards.

"I'm not alone. My godfather is just through there." I hedged, licking my lips as the half-lie left them. Remus was here but whether or not he would come if I called was debatable. It was only a few hours after the full moon and I dreaded to think of the torment he was going through shut up in his room. The pain was in many ways mental as well as physical. "Just how did you get past his wards without his knowing?"

"House elves have a different kind of magic, miss," I smirked feeling smug that I had guessed right. So house elves could slip in and out of wards with ease... interesting. I stowed that tidbit of information away for later. "but Dobby must do it for Harry Potter has ignored Dobby's warning..."

"Harry Potter? You went and spoke to Harry? And what warning?" My curiosity was peeked at the mention my brother, only for worry to set quickly in. Warning? I hadn't seen no form of warning within Harry's mind but I had pulled sharply from it once Voldemort reared his head. I hadn't wanted to see that damage - to see the man who killed my parents. So maybe I had missed it, that was plausible, annoying but plausible. He didn't even reflect on it but if he was ignoring it, then that explained why. It had also been two weeks since our Diagon Ally trip and without Dobby's mind, I had no way to tell if his visit was after I met Harry - maybe he hadn't heard about the elfs warning until after?

The elf looked suddenly nervous as he wrung his pillowcase with trembling hands. "Tell me!"

I felt my eyes blaze and I willed him to listen, to do as I told him. I felt the magic pulse through my veins, rising beneath my skin; forcing the answer to bubble up in his throat and out of his mouth is a nervous rush.

"That Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Dobby tried to warn Harry Potter but it was no use! Harry Potter still plans to return... It is not safe.. His Wheezy has put Harry Potter at great risk!"

Wheezy? That stumped me for a second. What in Merlins name was the elf talking about? I was quite sure that there was nothing called a 'Wheezy', not in the wizarding world or the Muggle but my Muggle knowledge was slim at best so I could be wrong...

"What's a Wheezy? Why isn't Hogwarts safe?" I asked frowning. The temptation to just delve into his mind was almost too hard to resist but somehow I did, reminding myself that doing so could open myself up to dangers I didn't want to face.

The elf looked skittish and before I gave into my urge, spoke in his high voice.

"His Wheezy, miss, Dobby sees him with his Wheezy. Dobby thought if he got Harry Potter into trouble that he would stay at home where he belongs, miss. Dobby had to shut his ears in the oven door after but Harry Potter had his Wheezy!" The elf let out a whimper before opening his mouth, closing it and suddenly ran head first at the cottage. His cries as he headbutted the wall pierced the air sharply louder than the noise of his arrival and for a second I worried that he would wake Remus. I tore him away by his pillowcase and the elf being almost weightless, hung an inch from the ground, panting, a large red lump slowly forming on his forehead.

"Why are you doing that?" I snarled, trying to hear any sound that Remus had heard but also looking to see if Dobby had damaged his home. It was weak enough without a house elf using its head as a battering ram against it.

At least it answered something. Dobby shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be warning me. It was slightly morbid, I realised, if he did something against his family's orders, he would have to hurt himself. I couldn't help but wonder what that did to the mind. Instinct drove you away from pain but asking someone to inflict pain onto themselves was almost evil. Actually, it _was_ evil.

"If you can't tell me, then why are you here?" I asked frustrated with the cruelty in front of me. I knew it was apart of the wizarding world, contempt and dislike for creatures and people they didn't understand but surely they could be treated with a bit more kindness, if only for the brilliance of their magic. Dobby faltered for a second, his bat-like ears dropping a little as if my words had hurt him. Feeling a surge of pity, I tacked on the end. "Just I'd rather not watch you punish yourself with my home - it looks painful, if I'm being honest with you."

Dobby made no attempt to free himself and continued to hang there but gave a shuddering breath before speaking out;

"Dobby must warn Harry Potter, even if Dobby has to punish himself most grievously... he is too great, too noble to lose, miss." The elf said with a huge sniff, wiping his long nose with the back of his hand. "Aurora Potter must stop Harry Potter from going to Hogwarts!"

I eyed him for a second. House elf magic was definitely different. I couldn't gather if Dobby was being honest from the green orbs that stared at me pleadingly. There was no emotion, no noise but maybe if I pushed past that wall... maybe I could see _something_...

"If I let you go, will you stop hurting yourself?" I didn't want to touch his pillowcase longer than strictly necessary but if the elf insisted on hurting himself further then I had no option. "Just my godfather is asleep and I think you could do with a break from punishment."

The bruise on his head looked painful but also his ears. Thin red marks forming little creases told me that he had indeed shut his ears in the oven door and it wasn't the first time he had done it.

"Did you really shut your ears in the oven, Dobby? Don't your masters notice?" Likely not, if the elf planned more for himself.

"No, miss, Dobby's masters sometimes reminds Dobby to do extra punishments. They lets him get on with it, miss." I grimaced. "But Dobby doesn't care, for Dobby has heard of a dangerous plot, miss. One that will make Hogwarts most unsafe."

"Of course Dobby has.." I huffed, my trust in the elf diminishing somewhat. I couldn't tell if he was lying and my patience was wearing thin. If he was human then I would've infiltrated his mind the second he introduced himself yet he presented a problem. Was his mind compatible? Could I slip in without damaging either one of us? If I could, would he react to me? It was a risky trick as it could be turned on me and as I weren't sure just how strong elf magic was, I wasn't going to do it blind. "Do you know Legilimancy, Dobby?"

The elf looked slightly confused but with his green eyes wide, he nodded.

"Dobby knows, miss. It is said that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was good at seeing the truth in the minds of others. Dobby's own master knows the art, Master has many books for the learning in the Great Library, miss. Dobby keeps the dust off them." At this the elf took pride in, puffing his thin chest out proudly. I smiled but cringed inside. He said master, nothing else to tell me who owned him. Was it forbidden? What could this elf tell me?

"Then you will know that some people are born with the gift - that's me but in all honesty, I don't want to use it on you. I don't know the consequences so tell me of this plot, Dobby, so I can tell my godfather." The elf tattered for a second, his hands gripping the hem of the pillowcase he wore. Either he saw something in my eyes or maybe it was the unveiled threat of using Legilimancy that he spoke.

"Dobby heard tell of a plot to make unthinkable things happen this year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry but Dobby cannot tell Aurora Potter what that plot is. But if Harry Potter returns, he will be in mortal danger, miss! Dobby must protect Harry Potter."

"Why?" I asked surprised. I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. "Who's plotting this, Dobby?"

"Ah! Don't not ask, miss! Do not ask for Dobby cannot answer Aurora Potter even if Dobby wanted too, miss!" Dobby looked stricken, shaking his head in panic. He glanced towards the wall and leaned forward as if to headbutt it again. "Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for warning miss but more so if miss forces Dobby to answer what his masters forbidden."

"Alright." I said pausing for a second. I felt another surge of pity for Dobby but it wouldn't stop me from questioning him for long. I didn't like having the answers I needed dangling in front of me like Dobby was. It was like it went against something deep inside me - an internal itch similar to the one I felt when someone was intentionally keeping me out of their mind. "I won't make you answer something you can't."

So the problem was that something - an unspeakable evil - was going to happen at Hogwarts. Something that was dangerous and Harry was the clue. The elf didn't seem particularly worried that I was attending this year, just Harry.

A cold swooping feeling ran through me as a thought struck me.

"Wait.." I said slowly, fear claiming my gut. "Its not Voldemort, is it?"

Dobby clapped his hands over his ears and moaned. "Ah, speak not the name! miss, speak not the name! Aurora Potter is like her brother, to fierce and noble to fear the Dark Lord!"

"Its just a name. Not even his real one unless his parents hated him," I said with a roll of my eyes and a bite of annoyance in my tone. "and people question how he managed to get so powerful. But you didn't answer my question. Is it Voldemort?"

He leaned threateningly towards the cottage again, his green eyes staring at me with a hint. Then, finally, the elf shook his head with a whimper.

"N-not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, miss."

"Then someone else?" I asked, slightly frustrated. I was in half a mind to just take Dobby to Remus and leave him question him. That would be the smart thing to do. Remus could then tell Professor Dumbledore. Yet, the elf had his own magic, he could very well Disaparate the second I attempted it. The other half was aching to look inside his mind and just take the answers by force. I could feel the ache in the pit of my stomach, twisting and growing with every second that past. I tried not to focus on all the knowledge I was losing out on. "Your master, maybe?"

"Dobby cannot tell Aurora Potter -" Dobby suddenly fell silent, then glanced towards the garden gate. There was nothing there but he spoke in a sudden rush. "Dobby must go, miss. Listen to Dobbys warning, miss, stop Harry Potter from returning to Hogwarts! He is too good, too noble to lose!"

Before I could say anything or make a grab for his spinnly arm, he disappeared with a click of his fingers and a loud **Crack!**

Not a second later, the air was punctured again by another loud sound but this time it was Lyall, his black travelling cloak swirling about him. I relaxed slightly, more so when I locked eyes and felt his annoyance.

It took me a second to decide whether or not to tell Lyall about Dobby. There was benefits to telling an adult, they could handle it better, and no matter what Dobby said, Harry wasn't the only person going to Hogwarts this year. What about the students or for one, what about me? I knew that spending the year in mortal danger wasn't the way I wanted to spend my first year neither was worrying about Harry's safety. I was looking forward to learning, maybe working on a few pranks - and make Lockheart regret his position as teacher. I really didn't enjoy the idea of ' _Mortal danger_ ' as Dobby had put it.

And yet, surely there was a reason Dobby had warned Harry and I. Everyone in the wizarding world knew Albus Dumbledore was the headmaster of Hogwarts and everyone knew that Voldemort feared him but in many ways, he had bested Dumbledore. He was feared as greatly now as he was then, and that fear had spewed onto new generations - Ron was my proof, even Hermione, a Muggleborn who couldn't have even heard of Voldemort until she did her research, feared him. So if it wasn't him, then he still had followers, people who had evaded Azkaban. Death Eaters.

It would be better to wait, try and talk to Harry before I told someone - to get the full picture of Dobby's warning from his mind. If Dobby turned up again, I would be waiting. Surely there was a book on mental magic and magical creatures I could look at. I could get all the answers and Dumbledore could save the day. Dobby needn't worry.

With that decided, I schooled my expression into one of slight boredom and indifference. I should be expecting him after all, he returned home always at six-thirty. From the look of his stormy eyes something had angered him.

"Should I ask?" I asked frowning as he almost flew up the path, cloak billowing angrily. I wrinkled my nose as a fog wiped his mind clear, pushing me out. His anger gave him away and I pushed back, easily slipping past the fog after an abrupt hit upon a weak spot I quickly found in his defense. Ah, the face of Schembri, the Head of the Werewolf Registry swirled in his mind; the mans face twisted into a sneer and wrinkled my nose in distaste. Arnold Schembri was a decent wizard apparently - in skill but his distaste for non-regestered werewolves was just as known. "Remus is asleep before you go storming in there. I'll fetch you a Butterbeer - Firewhisky doesn't help."

I left out the fact it made him angrier and scooped up the fallen pile of books. Lyall eyed them with a scowl as the front door swung open from the force of his anger.

"I thought you packed those." He paused just inside, taking his cloak off and hanging it up before shuffling out of his boots.

"I did but I thought the more information I have on the enemy the better I'll be when the time comes to make his life harder." I said mildly as I dropped them off in the living room to be packed once more later. Thankfully due to the trunk Lyall had gifted me on my birthday, it was only a simple matter of placing them inside.

Remus was no where to be seen but I could hear the faint rumble of his snore down the hall from his room. I would be surprised if he woke this evening, or even showed his face with his fresh wounds.

The fire was burning low without him and it was effortless to have it roaring again, fire came natural to me but I caught on quickly to most things because of my Legilimancy. I knew the feeling of magic as it rose, almost innately and was able to use it better than I should. "Did Schembri ask you to present Remus again?"

"Hinted it more like," came his growl as he sat down, already hidden behind a puff of swirling grey smoke. I stayed silent as I opened the glass cabinet and pulled down a bottle of mead. Butterbeer would calm him little right now, and mead was better than Firewhisky. "I see the man's point - it's a risk for the folk to have him here and they do have a right to know. It's not like the Ministry will plaster it over the front page either but still, he wouldn't have brought it up if last night hadn't been a full moon..."

Still, I stayed quiet. There was no use talking now, as no matter what I said Lyall would come to the same conclusion as he always did. Remus was better off away from the Ministry, even if his secret was whispered behind the Ministry doors. And the threat to the public was minimal... he made sure of that before the moon shone it's face. But as Schembri had pointed out, the Registry meant he would be eligible for the Wolfsbane potion for free - if he just presented himself at St Mongo's. It would also condemn him more than he was now, for anyone could look at the register. He wouldn't be able to find a job, he would be outright shunned from the community. People would see him as a monster.

"They can't force him to present himself, can they?" I asked, careful to keep my voice down but I couldn't keep the worry out of my voice. What would happen if that came to pass? No werewolf in history was responsible for a child - the risk was too great but with Lyall, I'd never been put into harms way.

"Not unless they change the law - which they won't as its hard enough to get them in now. The Auror's have better things to take care off," Lyall paused, and a hand appeared through the smoke. I passed him the mead before sitting by the fire. "and Schembri is no Scamander. Doesn't have the power behind him."

"I don't see your problem with Scamander - he's a legend and if I'm not mistaken isn't the only one who had a dislike for our furry little friends." I quipped as I pulled _Weekend with a Werewolf_ onto my lap and turned to the page I was on before Dobby interrupted. Again, I questioned whether to tell Lyall, but something urged me against it. If I did that then I would be denied the answers to my questions, and there wasn't anything I could do now. The first day of term was three days away, I couldn't stop Harry and I didn't want to either. "You once harboured similar feelings to both of those men."

There was a pause, in which the fire crackled and you could hear the leaves burn in his pipe faintly. I smirked inwardly, sensing that I had stumped him and he was unsure if to be angry with me or stunned.

"I'll ignore that comment." He said coldly and even though I could hardly see him with the smoke that enveloped him, I could feel the daggers he glared. "How long has your godfather been shut away?"

"Most of the day." I sighed. The only sign that he had came out was the potion cupboard in the kitchen - a vial of Essence of Dittany and bruise salve had been taken, along with a pack of bandages, which told me he had possibly broken something in the night doing whatever his other self did in those hours. Yet, I wasn't too worried - it could be worse. There could be blood in the bathroom that he had failed to clean up on his return, to tired to summon the energy.

"There are leftovers from last night or you will have to make something." I didn't need to be a Legilimens to know what Lyall would pick - my lamb casserole was the best he'd tasted and he'd been hoping for seconds today. "There is also bread and butter pudding, Hopes recipes."

Hope was Lyall's late muggle wife, who like most people I knew was another person I'd met only through memories. I knew she was the reason Lyall drink coffee in the mornings - a Muggle drink, and the reason he liked thumbing through the Muggle newspaper in search for cross word puzzles or a game of Sudoko. The only thing in the house that was once hers was the cook books out in the kitchen.

The only answer I got was a flare of excitement from him, my mind as accustomed to his as it was with Remus'.

"Have you heard of the Homorphus Charm?" I asked absently as the fire began to warm the room properly. I leaned back into my chair, feet dangling a foot from the floor. The smoke was slowly fading, pipe out and smoking only a little.

"I don't believe I have," He said after a slight pause. "Where did you hear such a spell?"

I nodded towards the glossy book on my lap, which was open on a particularly nasty image of a werewolf drawn, howling at a moon. "Lockheart - if its real."

"If its from Lockheart, take it with a pinch of salt." He said coldly, feeling just the same as I did about the fraud but also smug that he was right. "I have half a mind to write to Dumbledore - I remember when the fool filed for funding towards his business venture after Gringotts turned him away. Occumy egg hair potion, only the problem with such a thing is the eggs are incredibly rare and its more than a wizards life trying to get the shells let alone an unhatched egg."

I had seen this business venture in Lockhearts mind, one that had failed miserably despite the success in the product. It showed he was smart, capable at one point with a cauldron but it was a costly one and with no help from huge benefactors he had failed to get it off the ground. There was also the small fact that you could get a similar effect with Sleakeazy's hair care potion that was invented by my grandfather, Fleamont Potter.

"Thats how he makes his hair so wavy, did you know? Its a secret recipe apparently." I said loftily, already planning to get hold of his batch this year and give it an interesting twist.

"That grin is quite terrifying, Rory." Lyall said with a knowing smirk. "Just don't kill the man."

"Never." I said with a light grin. I wouldn't murder him, just make him regret stealing better wizards deeds.

* * *

 **Author note: At first, Dobby wasn't going to meet Aurora but I decided against it. Dobby is one of my favourites and I hope I portrayed him right. Let me know what you think!**


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